Wolfe
by Ninjasaurus
Summary: Everyone's talking about a new trainer, Wolfe, as he makes his way across the Kanto region, defeating gym leaders with ease. The truth? He's actually a sixteen year old girl who stole a lab experiment Pokémon and is on the run from the Pokémon mafia.
1. Chapter 1

**So I've had this idea for a while, and after quite a few attempts at starting it, I finally got the first chapter finished! I'm actually _really _excited for this story, and I hope you guys enjoy it, too. (Oh, and since I got yelled at in my other Pokémon fanfic, I should warn you there may be some strong language, hence the M rating. But don't worry, I promise there won't be too much.)**

* * *

There were people following her. More specifically, there were some pretty _shady_ people following her. She didn't have to glance over her shoulder to figure that out; she could feel their eyes burning into the back of her skull and she could hear their heavy footsteps striding not too far behind her. She tried to remain oblivious, though; showing any sign of being aware that they were following her would have a bad end result. It's better to remain unaware of their presence, that way they would take it easy on her – she hoped.

However, this tactic would soon be proved ineffective. As soon as she rounded the corner and was out of sight of any passersby, the man that had been following in her shadow quickly advanced on her and covered her mouth with his hand, stifling her scream, and dragged her into a nearby alley. She was shoved into the hard chest of a large Machoke, who held her arms behind her back and spun her around to face the men crowding around her. Her chocolate brown eyes fell on the familiar face of the loan shark she had previously met with several weeks earlier, and her heart skipped a beat. He had a friendly smile on his face, but his dark eyes held malicious cruelty behind them. His jet black hair was slicked back and he had a thin mustache, and he was dressed in a simple black suit, his hands buried deep in his pockets. He took two long strides towards her, his eyes locked on hers.

"Gemma," he spoke, "we haven't heard from you in a few days. You doin' alright?" he asked innocently, that friendly smile never leaving his lips.

Gemma trembled slightly in the large fighting Pokémon's arms. She nodded briefly, but remained silent. A million scenes flashed through her mind of the different possibilities of what they would do to her, each one more frightening than the last.

"Good," he said. He took two long strides forward until he stood right in front of her. He leaned down to her eye level, his face mere inches away from hers. "So why haven't we heard from you?"

Her voice shook when she spoke. "U-um, I've just been busy," she squeaked, her eyes wide.

The smile fell from his face and was replaced by a frown. "Is that so," he replied monotonously, stepping back. She saw his dark eyes meet with the Machoke restraining her and give a curt nod. The large Pokémon roughly shoved her on her knees, capturing her medium-length chestnut hair in his hands and pulling tightly. She cried out in pain, her hands reaching up in a fruitless effort to loosen the creature's grip. With another tug, the fighting type had forced her head back so she looked up at his master. The man in the black suit knelt before her.

"Now Gemma, I've been patient with you. I've shown restraint considering your young age, but I'm afraid I'm fed up with waiting," the man said in a haunting voice. "I need my money, kid."

Tears were threatening to spill over her face. "I don't have it," she whispered shakily, her brown eyes wide.

"Then, you've left me no choice," he said almost apologetically. Gemma watched in terror as the man stepped aside, allowing a large Scyther to step forward. Its razor sharp scythes glinted menacingly in the little available light in the alley, and Gemma could feel her heart skip a beat. The green Pokémon grinned mischievously at the frightened girl.

"It's a shame, really," the loan shark voiced. "Such a pretty little face like yours going to waste."

Another stab of terror engulfed the girl when she realized just what they were planning. Her heart quickened with every step the menacing Scyther took towards her, her small body shaking in the strong Machoke's grip. Just as the bug/flying type pressed one of its scythes into her cheek, breaking the flesh, a thought came to her mind.

"Wait!" she cried, feeling the stinging sensation as her skin broke in two. The Scyther paused and glanced back at its owner confused. The man's brow was raised in question, waiting for her to continue.

Gemma racked her brain for a cause for her interruption. "Give me a month. I swear I'll have your money by then."

The man shook his head. "Three days," he announced.

"Three weeks."

"One week," he countered, crossing his arms.

Gemma bit her lip. "Two weeks," she bargained. "Please, I promise you'll get your money by then."

His dark brow rose in disbelief. "You'll come up with $10,000 in two weeks?" He questioned doubtfully.

She doubted it herself. "If I don't, it'll be half, and I'll get you the rest the next week," she reasoned, a desperate hopefulness shining in her eyes.

A frown fell on the man's lips. "Then we're back to three weeks," he pointed out, clearly unhappy with the proposal. He sighed despite himself and shoved the Pokémon aside, kneeling down in front of her again. "I'll make you a deal, Gemma. If you can give me no less than 7,000 in two weeks, I'll give you the next week to come up with the rest. But if you don't," the man paused and leaned in closer, his lips brushing the girl's ear, "we'll have no choice but to pay your mother a visit," he finished in a low tone. He pulled away and stared hard into the frightened face of the quivering girl. "Do you understand me?" he demanded darkly, to which she nodded – the best she could in the tight grip of the fighting Pokémon – vigorously. He smiled and replied with a satisfied 'good', standing up and leading his posse out of the dark alleyway.

Gemma fell forward on her hands as the large Machoke shoved her away from him and followed after his master. She shook violently and watched as a dark red droplet of blood splattered to the asphalt beneath her. Her head shot up as her loan shark called back to her.

"Oh, and Gemma," he called, standing in the entrance to the deserted alley, "we'll be keeping a close eye on your mother."

Gemma slumped to the ground on her side, bringing her knees up to her chest and heaving large, choked sobs, her salty tears stinging her open wound and mixing with the blood that spilled down her face.

* * *

"Gemma, what happened to your face?"

Gemma gave her mother a tired smile. "Nothing, Mom. I just scratched my cheek, is all," she answered, but it didn't fool her mother.

The older woman's eyes narrowed and she frowned disapprovingly at her daughter. "Gemma, you're a terrible liar. It's too clean of a cut for it to be a scratch. And why are your eyes red?"

She knew before she got home that her mother wouldn't ignore that. "It really is just a scratch, Mom. And it hurt, so you know, I was crying a bit. It's no big deal, really," she tried to persuade her mother.

Her mother's lips pressed together firmly in a thin line, but she didn't say anything more, knowing her daughter would stick to her original story. "Well," she sighed, getting up from her spot at the kitchen table, "at least let me clean it up for you." Gemma didn't object and followed her mother obediently into the bathroom.

Gemma stared at the ceiling, her face tilted upward so her mother could work on her cheek. She winced a bit when she dabbed a bit of Hydrogen Peroxide on the cut, but remained silent nonetheless. The older woman ran a washcloth under some warm water and wrung it out before bringing it to her daughter's injured face. She dabbed at the wound, wiping away any excess blood.

"It'll probably scar," she warned, to which her daughter nodded. She fell silent again. Her tired green eyes fell on her daughter's appearance. The girl looked almost nothing like her; her eyes were brown, her hair a rich chestnut color while her mother's was a sandy blond, and when she smiled, two dimples presented themselves to the world. A pang of loneliness hit the older woman as she realized yet again how much her daughter resembled her father. She even had her father's personality, always wanting to help others, no matter what the cost.

Gemma gazed up at her mother inquisitively when she sighed and placed the damp washcloth in the sink. "Gemma," she started, eying her daughter seriously, "you don't need to push yourself, okay? I don't want you to feel like you need to help me, whether it's just with getting stuff done around the house or financially. You're only sixteen, you're supposed to be out there enjoying your teen years, not staying indoors and taking care of me." Gemma frowned and opened her mouth to object, but her mother held up a hand, silencing her. "Now I understand that you may think that you should take care of me, but you don't need to. I'm a grown woman and I can take care of myself."

The younger girl dropped her gaze and stayed silent, a defeated look on her face. Her mother sighed and lifted the girl's chin. "Gem, I just don't want you to waste your life trying to be an adult. It's okay to go out and have fun. I only want you to be happy, okay?" She nodded and her mother placed a soft kiss on the girl's forehead. "I love you, sweetheart."

A small smile tugged at the girl's lips and she replied, "I love you, too."

Her mother smiled and attached a bandage on her cheek. "Get some sleep, Gem. I'll see you in the morning."

As Gemma lay in her bed, she pondered what her mother had said to her. She couldn't imagine just ignoring her mother's health and well-being and just running outside to live her own life. She had to take care of her mom, even if her mother didn't think it was necessary. A frown shadowed her face and she turned to her side, staring out her window. However, what she had done to help had turned into something dangerous for her mother. She scowled and buried her face into her pillow so her screams were muffled by the soft fabric. Why did she have to turn to the mafia? She knew they were dangerous, especially since they brought Pokémon into their dirty business, and yet that loan shark's offer was just so tempting, so inviting, that she couldn't refuse. They needed that money, and she was too blind with desperation that she easily turned to the nearest solution, no questions asked.

Although she had thought she had cried herself dry earlier that day, fresh hot tears fell down her cheeks as the frustration built up inside of her. She rolled over again, facing the large Pokémon League poster on her wall. She stared at the grinning faces of a young boy and his Bulbasaur with envy.

"Why couldn't I have just been a Pokémon trainer," she mumbled irritably, closing her eyes. "It'd be so much easier, traveling the region, catching different Pokémon, earning money, collecting badges..." Gemma trailed off, on the brink of sleep, when her eyes snapped open. She sat up in her bed slowly, her brown eyes wide as they scrutinized the poster more closely. When she ran the thought through her head again, she gave a small gasp.

Gemma fell back on her bed gratefully. With a grin on her face, she slowly drifted off to sleep, knowing exactly how she was going to come up with that $10,000.


	2. Chapter 2

Gemma tugged at the hem of her black T-shirt nervously, her eyes darting around the room restlessly. She sat in a nearby chair, but stood back up after a few moments. She tried leaning against the wall casually, but that proved to not be casual at all. She picked at her black fingerless gloves, shoved her hands in the pockets of her red and white jacket, then just let them hang uselessly at her sides. A sigh passed through her lips and she readjusted the cap on her head for the fifth time, making sure her hair was completely concealed underneath. Her brown eyes wandered the room again, taking in the bookcase overflowing with journals and notebooks, the computer desk littered with notes, and the small wooden table that usually contained the three starter Pokémon for children to choose from. However, the table sat bare in front of her. The assistant that had led her into the room said she would have to bring in a new set, but the way she had whispered with one of the other employees, Gemma could tell they felt she was up to no good. She was almost certain they were going to return with security instead of the great Professor Oak, and she knew she was running out of time.

Gemma silently cursed at the bad luck she was having lately; she came here for a damn Pokémon, and now she has to leave empty handed. Her hands curled into fists at her sides as she realized that she was back to where she had started. _No,_ she thought. She was here for a Pokémon, and she was determined to leave with one as well. But how? There weren't any in this room, and she wasn't sure where they kept the others. She began to frantically search the room, knowing there just _had _to be a small red and white ball hidden somewhere.

"Down in the lab," a voice called from down the hall.

Gemma froze at the voice. An eerie cold sensation ran just under the surface of her skin as panic rose from within her stomach. Her hands worked rapidly, shoving boxes aside and shuffling through papers. The thunderous sound of footsteps quickly making their way towards the room she was in made her palms break out in an anxious sweat, and she cursed under her breath. Just as she was about ready to give up and bolt out the window, a glint caught her eye.

She would have squealed in delight if it wasn't for the current circumstances she was in, so instead she opted to swipe the ball off the desk and throw open the window. Just as the door to the large room began to open, Gemma slipped out the window and landed on the green grass below. As soon as her feet touched the earth, she took off, running as fast as she could to get as far away from the building as possible. Her legs hurtled her forward, refusing to slow down even when the large white building was out of sight. She ran through town, weaving through passersby and buildings, and finally swerving off into an alleyway. She leaned her weight against the brick wall behind her, resting her hands on her knees and breathing heavily. When she had finally caught her breath, she straightened up, swiveling her head towards the entrance to the alley. She watched intensely for several long minutes, waiting to see if anyone had followed her, but no one passed by. Gemma sighed with relief and took off the hat she wore, letting her tied back hair fall against the back of her neck.

"Oh, my God," she murmured under her breath, her eyes growing wide. "Oh, my _God!_" Her hands gripped the sides of her head, her mind racing. _I just stole a Pok__é__mon, _she thought to herself. _I just _stole_ a _Pokémon! Gemma could feel a small panic attack forming inside of her chest, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to breath in and out evenly. She felt the hot tears forming behind her eyelids as she began to think about the note she had left for her mother. She was probably up by now, and more than likely read the note already. Gemma's heart twisted inside her chest at the thought of her mother worrying about her and wondering if she had left her.

A frown settled over her face and she opened her eyes, staring at the dirty ground beneath her. She had to do this, so she could earn money and finally pay off that loan shark so they didn't have to live in constant danger of the mafia. Gemma shook her head and pushed herself off the wall. She would make things right, and she had her very own Pokémon to help her do so.

Speaking of newly stolen Pokémon...

Gemma began to reach around to her backpack, wondering just what was inside the tiny ball, but stopped herself. This wasn't the place to do that, not with the mafia still out and about. Gemma stuffed her ponytail back inside the cap and secured it over her head, readjusted the straps on her shoulders, and headed down to the end of the alley to the opposite side of town, her destination the woods that led her into the vast region of Kanto.

Out there is her new beginning.

* * *

Gemma burst through the woods, her breathing coming in short gasps. The sun beat down on her, causing her clothes to cling to her body with sweat. When her town was far gone from sight, she slowed to a steady jog, which gradually turned into a walk. She attempted to catch her breath, but with her heart thrumming at the rate a Beedrill's wings flap, she let herself collapse under a shady tree. Her head felt as if it were in an oven under the hat she wore, so she quickly ripped it off, along with her jacket, and let the shade cool her body. Her head fell back against the tall tree behind her and she let her eyes close. Without a second thought, her hands automatically pulled her backpack onto her lap, unzipped it, and dove inside, searching for the bottle of water she had packed. Off came the lid, and a second later, nearly half the bottle's contents were sliding down her dry throat.

_Stop,_ a voice ordered from the back of her mind, and reluctantly she detached her parched lips from the bottle. Silently, she screwed the cap back on and replaced the water bottle in her bag. The next thing that her hands pulled out was the shiny red and white ball. Her brown eyes stared at its reflective surface for a long time, her mind once again trying to grasp the fact that she had successfully stolen it. That's when a horrifying thought struck her. What if the ball was empty? An awful moment passed where Gemma panicked at the possibility, terrified that she would have to return to town, or have to face the mafia she so idiotically got herself mixed up in. _No, it couldn't be empty, _she reassuringly convinced herself. There's no way she could have _that _bad of luck.

_But then again..._

Gemma shook the thought out of her head. Might as well find out now. Sliding her arms back into her jacket and fitting her cap back on her head, she pushed herself onto her knees. Holding the Pokéball out in front of her, she took a deep breath and pressed the small white button in the center of the sphere.

A beam of red light shot out of the ball, slowly molding its shape into a huddled form in front of her. The light dispersed and the figure before her began to shift in its position. The small creature pushed itself onto its feet.

"Alright, Professor. Lets hurry this up. I'm still kinda sore from – " it stopped when it was completely facing her. They both froze, scrutinizing the other's profile cautiously. The Pokémon that stood in front of Gemma was relatively small, only standing at about a foot tall. Bright yellow fur covered its small body, the base of its lightning bolt shaped tail a light brown. Two brown, jagged stripes stretched horizontally across its lower back. Two long ears stood tall on its head, the tips a deep jet black. Its round face stared at her inquisitively, its deep brown eyes squinting up at her in suspicion. Two red circles adorned its cheeks, which was the same shade as the torn scarf wrapped around its neck.

"Who the hell are you?" the Pokémon demanded, taking on a defensive position.

Gemma was taken back by the rude outburst. She scowled at the small Pokémon, ready to go off on it, when she realized what he had said. "You...you..." she sputtered, disbelief and shock washing over her face. Her chocolate brown eyes widened and she pointed an accusing finger at him, which he bristled at the motion. "You talked!" Gemma exclaimed.

The yellow Pokémon, realizing this person was no serious threat, pushed himself back onto two feet and rolled his eyes. "No shit, Sherlock," he growled sarcastically. He eyed her pointing finger with annoyance. "You mind gettin' that outta my face, kid?"

Gemma let her arm drop to her side. She sat frozen in front of the creature, watching in awe at the fact that he could actually talk. Sure, he was rude and cussed somewhat, but he was still _talking.__Wow,_ she thought. To think that with all the bad luck she had been having recently, she was able to successfully steal a Pokémon, and it could _talk!_

"You're talking," Gemma said lamely, unsure of how to address this bit of information.

The small mouse huffed in irritation. "Yeah, we covered that."

She frowned, still not fully comprehending it. "But how?" His icy glare bit into her skin. "I mean, Pokémon don't talk. At least, I don't think they do. But then again, I never really spent much time with Pokémon, so I guess it's possible for them to talk and I've just never known about it. It would make sense for people to talk about it, though, and since no one has, I guess it's not normal for you guys to talk. Oh, but maybe you guys can talk, but you just choose not to. You know, kinda like how people think babies can talk, but we – "

"How old are you, kid?" he interrupted.

Gemma was taken back by the sudden question. "Sixteen," she answered uncertainly.

The Pokémon crossed his small arms. "And you haven't hit puberty yet? You're squeakin' up a storm, kid."

Gemma frowned and was about to ask what he was talking about when she remembered her attire. _Oh, right, _she thought, toying with the zipper on her jacket. Well, if a talking Pokémon can't tell that she's a girl, then the mafia can't, either. This disguise is better than she thought.

Deciding to keep up the act, she stood up, brushing off any dirt on her pants. "Well," she said, dropping her voice an octave lower, "since you're just gonna sit here and insult me, I guess I'll just leave you out here to fend for yourself." She paused for a moment, then added reluctantly, "Asshole." Gemma grimaced slightly at the word.

The yellow mouse stared up at her with wide eyes, and just as she was beginning to think her little act worked, he burst into raucous laughter.

"Oh, oh God," he said between chuckles. He fell on his back and rolled around, clutching his stomach. "I can't – I can't _breathe!" _he choked out, tears building around his eyes.

Gemma recoiled from his vexing laughter, her cheeks blazing with embarrassment. She wasn't one to cuss, and she knew the word sounded odd coming out of her mouth, but she wasn't expecting this sudden outburst.

The Pokémon continued to laugh until he was left gasping for air. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, only a few stray chuckles bubbled their way out of him. He sat up slowly, wiping the tears from his eyes. "Damn, kid. You shouldn't cuss, it doesn't sound right comin' from you." He laughed again. "Jesus, it was like listening to a two year old cuss!"

Gemma glared down at the rude creature and crossed her arms across her chest. "So you do want to stay out here on your own?" she asked irritably.

He shook his head and gave her a cocky smirk. "Trust me, Squeaks, I can handle the woods. I was a wild myself once, ya know."

"Well if you're so big and mighty, how did you end up getting caught?" Gemma retorted, annoyed with the stolen Pokémon.

The smirk was gone from his face and he glared daggers at the girl. "None of your damn business, that's how," he growled.

She eyed him curiously, her interest piqued at the defensive reaction to the question. She shook her head. "What Pokémon are you anyway?" she asked instead, changing the subject.

A frown fell over his face. "Not much of a Pokémon genius, are you?" he asked in response. "I'm a Pikachu."

"Okay then. Pikachu, are you – "

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up there, kid," the Pikachu interrupted. "Just because I'm a Pikachu don't make it my name, alright?" he corrected her, holding up his little hands.

Gemma pursed her lips. "What is your name, then?"

His ears dropped and he looked away, crossing his arms tightly across his furry chest. His lightning bolt shaped tail twitched, and an irritated pout found its way onto his yellow face.

_So cute, _she thought. His lips moved slightly, and it took Gemma a moment to realize that he had said something. "What?"

"I ain't got one, alright?" he shouted, his brown eyes burning with rage.

His voice echoed in the dense woods, scattering a flock of Pidgey in a nearby tree. Gemma jumped at the booming voice that came out of such a small Pokémon. She stared with wide eyes at the yellow mouse, her ears ringing slightly. The Pikachu in front of her breathed heavily. Realizing what he had done, he turned his back to her, ashamed and embarrassed by his outburst. It was odd, really, to think that a simple thing like not having a name bothered him so much. But it did, and he hated that he had proven so to this stranger. His little hands clenched into fists at his sides. Gemma's silence hurt his sensitive ears more than anything else could, and he wished desperately for the tight isolation which he was so accustomed to in that Pokéball. Anything to be out from under her judgmental gaze.

"Well," Gemma spoke gingerly, "what did they call you at the lab?"

"025," he answered mechanically, the number imprinted in his mind.

Gemma wrinkled her nose. "A number?" she asked doubtfully.

"Why name a lab rat," he spat venomously. He shook his head and looked up to the sky, heaving a large sigh. He didn't say anything, but his message was clear: Drop it.

Gemma stuffed her hands in her pockets and kicked at some grass. "Well, what do you want your name to be?" she asked innocently.

He peeked over his shoulder at her. "What's it to you?"

"You're my Pokémon," she pointed out. "So you should have a name you like."

He scoffed. "Yeah, right. It's pretty obvious the professor didn't just hand me over to you, so I'm guessing you stole me, right?" He turned to face her. "And that, kid, is kidnapping."

Gemma pondered this for a moment. "_Technically, _I rescued you. Seriously, life in a lab? Come on. Out here," she gestured with her arms their surroundings, "you're free. Open land, trees, fresh air. Face it, dude, I did you a favor."

"_Free? _Are you kidding me? I don't know about you, but being forced to fight your own kind for money ain't very free," he countered. "Besides, I'd rather take on a fuckin' Golem than stick around on your little 'journey'," he spat, his dark eyes daring her to throw something back at him. Gemma winced at the F-word.

A frown shadowed her mouth and she narrowed her eyes at him. "Fine," she growled angrily. She bent down to scoop up his abandoned Pokéball. The Pikachu tensed, expecting her to retract him back inside, but she dropped it inside the depths of her bag, slung the straps over her shoulders, and turned away from him. He watched the idiotic trainer walk away, venturing deeper into the woods.

"Stupid kid," he muttered to himself. "Doesn't he know he'll be attacked?" The nameless Pikachu shook his head and took his first step into freedom.


	3. Chapter 3

Gemma immediately regretted continuing into the woods. It was hot and the sun was relentless, and it seemed that no matter what tree she stood under, the heat always reached her. The red and white jacket had been long ripped off and stuffed inside her backpack, but it did little to cool her off. She hated herself for choosing a black t-shirt to wear; she was sure it was drawing in more heat. She tried everything she could to cool off: drinking water, fanning herself, sitting in the shade, lifting her shirt and fanning herself with that. No matter what she did, it didn't ward off the increasing heat.

"Should've picked Squirtle," she mumbled bitterly.

A purple mouse stumbled into her path. It froze and stared up at her with large black eyes, both the Pokémon and trainer staring each other down. Gemma took a tentative step forward, but the small rodent quickly skittered away. Gemma frowned and watched its curled purple tail disappear into a bush. "Fine," she grumbled and resumed walking.

Time evaded the sweltering girl. She wasn't sure what time it was, what time she left, how much time she wasted walking. Her brown eyes squinted up at the blue, cloudless sky with distaste. The blazing sun glared back at her. The woods loomed over her, trees standing tall and holding her prisoner. Every sound echoed in her ears, running together in a jumbled mess. She screwed open the water bottle and brought it to her dry lips, but all that tumbled into her mouth was air. A sense of dread washed over her and defeatedly she replaced the empty bottle in her bag.

"Pid?"

Gemma jumped at the sound. She spun in a complete circle, looking for its source.

"Pid pid. Pidgey."

Her head tilted upward and her eyes landed on a small bird perched on a branch above her head. Its golden eyes watched her with curiosity, its head tilted to the side. Gemma smiled, being quite fond of birds, and cooed to it softly. Its head tilted to the other side and it cooed its response to her.

"Hey there, pretty bird. Have you been following me?" she asked, grinning up at the tan Pokémon. It blinked at her and ruffled its feathers. Gemma suppressed a giggle and she took a step toward the tree. She continued to talk in a soft voice.

"You're such a pretty bird," she murmured. "Do you wanna be my bird?"

The curious Pidgey cocked its head and hopped down to a lower branch, its round eyes trained on the young trainer. Gemma smiled at the flying type and slowly raised her hand so as not to frighten it. It watched her advancing fingers. "Pid pid?" it cooed softly, almost like a question.

"It's okay, pretty bird," Gemma whispered, her eyes wide and alight with excitement.

The Pidgey leaned forward and opened its beak. Gemma jerked her hand away reflexively. The Pidgey tilted its head back and screeched. Gemma clamped her hands tightly over her ears and watched in horror as a dozen more Pidgey joined the first. She knew what would happen next, so without any hesitation, she took off in the opposite direction.

The caws assaulted her ears as the flock of Pidgey flew after her. She dashed through bushes and weaved around trees, running as fast as her legs would let her. She was soon left gasping for breath in the heat and the exertion she was being put through. She could hear the flapping of wings behind her and knew that they were gaining on her. One of the birds swooped down, its clawed toes just grazing her hat, and she let out a shriek of fright. Her hand instinctively flew up to her cap, making sure it was still secure on her head. She leaped over a fallen branch and dodged a low hanging branch as well. Her heart raced in her chest and she had a vague moment of _de ja vu_, referring to earlier in the day, only this time she was being chased by a flock of bird Pokémon.

It wasn't much of a surprise when her foot caught on a root and she pitched forward; with the bad luck she was having, it was kind of expected. She landed hard on her hands and knees, but the fear and adrenaline numbed her of any pain. She quickly flipped around and crawled backwards, watching with terror as the birds advanced on her. Left with no other defense, Gemma crossed her arms in front of her face, shielding it from harm, and shut her eyes tightly. Her heart thumped in time with the chorus of flapping wings and screeching caws drawing near.

Her body went cold as she felt something land on her head. Her eyes snapped open, but her hat was shoved downward, cutting off her vision.

"Dammit, kid," a familiar voice growled in her ear. The weight left her head and she heard a crackling sound somewhere in front of her. Several Pokémon wailed in pain and Gemma felt her heart twist painfully in her chest. Tears sprung to her eyes and she could feel her throat tighten. Each _thwump_ of a body hitting the ground had her wincing. _One, two, three..._ Gemma bit her lip to keep from screaming. _Four, five, six..._ Her shoulders began to shake. _Seven, eight, nine... _Her body trembled. _Ten, eleven..._ The bodies ceased falling, and reluctantly, she lifted the cap so she could see.

The smell of fried feathers wafted in the air, and just like she counted, eleven darkened bodies littered the dirt floor. Her eyes landed on the talking Pikachu, who stood in the middle of the scattered bodies. He was looking at her oddly.

"W-What?" she asked. Her voice shook and she felt something warm roll down her cheek. Scared that it was blood, she quickly wiped it away. But when she pulled back her hand, her fingers were only covered in a clear, colorless liquid. "Oh..." she whimpered, her body trembling even more.

The yellow Pokémon furrowed his brow and walked over to her. He crawled onto her legs and stared into her face. His dark brown eyes dropped onto her black t-shirt. Without warning, his little hands landed on her chest. She stiffened, unsure of what he was doing or what she should do. A perplexed expression was written across his face, and he gave an experimental squeeze. Gemma gasped and smacked his hands away. Quickly, he dove for the hem of her shirt and lifted it up over her breasts. He stared at her bra for a moment before she ripped her shirt from his hands and tugged it back down. She shoved him off of her.

"No!" she cried. "Bad Pikachu!"

He glared up at her. "I'm not a fucking Growlithe, you little bitch!" he shouted back.

That pushed her over the edge, letting loose a series of tears and sobs. Gemma drew her knees to her chest and dropped her face in her hands, her body quaking with each sob.

The small Pokémon froze, unsure of what to do. His hands curled and uncurled at his sides and he looked away. Gemma continued to cry, and as each second passed, he felt worse and worse. His ears dropped and he scratched the back of his head.

"Look, kid," he began, "I didn't mean to yell at ya."

"Yes you did," Gemma sobbed. "You're a bad Pokémon! You don't listen to me, you killed those Pidgey, you won't let me give you a name..." She sniffled pathetically and looked at him with red rimmed eyes. "And you cuss too much."

He stared up at her in disbelief. "You're upset because you think I cuss too much?"

She nodded. She attempted to wipe away the tears, but more poured out. The Pikachu sighed in defeat and climbed back into her lap. He reached up and tentatively pulled off her hat. Her ponytail fell down against her neck. "I didn't kill those Pidgey," he assured her. "Really, they're just knocked out. That's how you win a battle, you know." When she didn't respond, he asked softly, "What's your name?"

"Gemma," she croaked.

He held her hat in his tiny hands. "Gemma," he tested the name. "Why are you dressed like a boy?"

Gemma sniffed again. "I'll tell you if you tell me how you ended up in the lab."

He frowned and was about to tell her off, but her big, chocolate colored eyes, which were still wet with tears, was stabbing at his soft spot. He groaned, but nodded nonetheless.

"Deal."

"And you let me name you."

"Fine."

"And you stop cussing so much."

"_Alright,_" he growled. Gemma sensed that she was pushing him to his limit.

"Okay, deal."

* * *

"The _mafia?!_"

Gemma cringed. She nodded glumly, her eyes trained on the ground. She played with her hairband to keep her hands busy, twisting and stretching it into different shapes.

"Jesus, kid. Are you fucking retarded?" he exclaimed.

Gemma gave him a halfhearted glare. "You promised to stop cussing," she reminded him. She tapped his nose with her finger. "And don't say retarded, that's bad, too."

He scowled. "That's gay. Since when?"

"The same time calling things gay was wrong."

The Pikachu frowned and ran his next sentence through an imaginary filter. "What were you even thinking? The Pokémon mafia is dangerous."

"I know," Gemma sighed, dropping her hands. "But we needed the money to pay off my mom's hospital bill, and with Mom not working, how were we supposed to come up with that kind of money?"

"Hell, I don't know! But turning to the mafia is definitely a _don't_. And now you gotta come up with ten grand to pay off that loan shark. Kid, you're right back to where you started!"

"I know!" Gemma cried, dropping her head in her hands. "Why weren't you there to tell me all of this before I did it?" she mumbled into her hands. She ran her fingers through her hair anxiously, staring at the ground. The small Pikachu patted her knee awkwardly, not too sure how to comfort someone.

"So," he said slowly, trying to avoid the awkward silence, "what are you gonna do?"

Gemma sighed and closed her eyes. "I have no idea. I was thinking that taking on the Pokémon League would reel in a good amount of money, but who am I kidding? Beating the Elite Four is nearly impossible."

"No it's not, kids do it all the time," the yellow Pokémon pointed out.

"Yeah, but they're skilled trainers. I have no idea what I'm doing!" Gemma cried.

"And you think those ten-year-old brats have any clue when they first start?" he reasoned.

She considered this for a moment. "Yes."

The electric type scowled. "Now you're just being stubborn."

"No, I'm serious. There's a trainer's school in Johto," Gemma pointed out.

"Yeah? Well we're in Kanto. Are there any schools here in Kanto?"

"Well, no."

"Exactly," the Pikachu said. "So those little kids don't know shi – crap about being a Pokémon trainer."

Gemma frowned. "I guess."

He shook his head. "You'll figure it out on your own; that's how most people learn anyways. You have to experience it firsthand, and from there you'll learn what to do and not do. Trust me, kid, you'll get the hang of it pretty quick," he reassured her.

Her brown eyes slid over to land on him. "Is that how you got by?" she asked jokingly, an eyebrow raised.

"Yep, and look at me now. I'm stronger than I was before. Lookit these guns," he said, flexing his arms.

"Hm," she hummed.

"C'mon, give 'em a squeeze."

Gemma rolled her eyes and lightly squeezed his tiny arm.

"Guns like that don't just happen by themselves, chica."

She laughed and gave him a little shove. "Careful with those bad boys, they're making you irresistible."

"Bitches go crazy for the guns," he replied, kissing his 'muscles'. Gemma giggled despite the foul language and began tying her hair back. The electric mouse watched her hands collect her chestnut colored hair and pull it through her pink hairband one, two, three times high on her head. She tightened it and let it drop, the tips grazing the back of her neck, which was glistening from a light layer of sweat. His deep brown eyes focused on the way the sunlight made her neck seem to sparkle and brought out the tint of red in her light brown hair. He tilted his head a little and scrutinized her face. Her eyebrows were thin and her eyes were large and round, giving her an innocent appearance, as opposed to her nose being small, reminding him of the phrase _as cute as a button. _Her mouth was small with full, pink lips, and her face was heart shaped. She was quite pretty, he had come to realize. He wasn't really sure why he had mistaken her for a boy earlier. Maybe it was the way she was dressed, in her loose blue jeans and black T-shirt. Gemma pinned back her bangs with a bobby pin and fitted her hat on her head. The Pikachu stared at her now, dressed in misleading clothes, and tried to think of her as a boy. He frowned. Her face was too girlish. If people did mistake her for a boy, they would mistake her as a very pretty boy, and that was only if they weren't stupid enough to not realize that she was a girl. Another factor would be her chest, which was kind of hard to even tell she had one in that loose shirt, although he had seen (and felt) how little padding she had under her shirt, so maybe that bit of anatomy wouldn't bring any problems.

"You know what I just realized?" Gemma voiced, bringing the small Pokémon out of his thoughts.

"What?" he asked, adjusting the red scarf around his neck.

She smiled brightly down at him. "I haven't given you a name yet."

He nodded and glanced up at her. "Do you have one?"

Gemma frowned, which looked more like a pout, and thought for a moment. Her eyes lit up and a smile crept up on her face. "Cyrus," she stated, her brown eyes looking at him for approval.

He made a face. "That's dumb."

Her face dropped. "What? No it's not."

"Of course it is. How many people do you know that are named Cyrus?"

"How many people do you know that are named Gemma?" she shot back.

The Pikachu scowled at her. "I don't want a name no one else in the world has."

"But there _are _people in the world with that name," Gemma explained, a desperate, pleading tone in her voice. "Why have a name everyone else has?"

"Because I don't want to be different," he spat at her.

"You already are."

"You think I wanted this shit done to me?" he shouted at her, his eyes glaring at her idiocy.

Gemma jumped, her eyes wide. The sharp sting of tears hit her eyes and she looked down, twiddling her thumbs. "I just..." she started, her voice shaky, "I just thought it might fit you, is all..." She sniffed and bit her quivering lip. His hard stare softened and eventually was wiped clean off his face. His ears dropped, as did his shoulders, as he realized she was on the verge of crying. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead in his hand. A large sigh blew past his lips and he said, "How?"

Gemma glanced up at him and quickly dropped her eyes again. "It means Sun..."

He peeked up at her through his fingers. "Sun," he clarified, and she nodded. He rolled the name around in his mind for a while, thinking of the meaning it held. Slowly, he let his arm fall back to his side. "Well," he started, sighing, "I guess Cyrus is pretty cool."

Gemma looked over at him. "You're just saying that," she mumbled.

"No I'm not. I'll get used to it," he said.

She stared at him, pondering this. "Promise?"

He nodded.

A grin broke out over her face and she grabbed the newly named Pikachu, bringing him in to a tight hug. His body tensed, being unfamiliar to such contact. It was different. It was warm. It was nice.

It was starting to hurt.

"Okay, that's enough," he said, pushing her away from him. That beaming smile still sat upon her lips and she wiped her eyes. Seeing her there, dressed as a boy but still looking very much like a girl, sunlight dotting her skin and illuminating her silhouette, grinning like an idiot, he couldn't help but allow a grin of his own spread across his mouth.

"Alright, then. Let's train a bit before heading to Viridian," Gemma suggested, pushing herself up off the ground.

Cyrus nodded and handed her her jacket. She took it and thanked him, pulling her arms through the sleeves and slung her bag over her shoulders. "Ready to be the very best, Wolfe?"

"Like no one ever was."

* * *

**So I just realized that I didn't have Cyrus explain how he ended up in Oak's lab. Uh... That'll be explained in the next chapter. Yeah, that's how I planned that all out... Anyway, yeah. I'm a senior now (yippee) and so I'm going to be pretty busy with homework and junk, especially since I'm taking my fourth year of German, and that involves loads of reading and translating. Sadly, yes, that does mean slower updates (ha, like that's anything new), and plus I've been trying like crazy to rewrite an original fiction I had started two or three years ago, and so far it's way better than what is written in my notebook, haha. I hope you liked the long overdue update, and for any _Bruises and Bitemarks _fans, believe me, I'm working on it, half of it is already typed up. Alright, later!**


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